Deceit, Unimaginable
by Piper Sargasso
Summary: After five years of partnership, Mulder learns of Scully's unexpected betrayal. Complete


Deceit, Unimaginable

By Piper Sargasso

Feedback: PiperSargasso@aol.com

Rating: PG  Keywords: X  Category: AU

Archive: Gossamer and Ephemeral -- No. I will submit 

directly. Anyone else is more than welcome. Please let 

me know where.

Spoilers: The Erlenmeyer Flask, Pilot and much of the 

mytharc from S1. 

Disclaimer: The characters within are the creations of 

Chris Carter. No infringement intended. 

Summary: After five years of partnership, Mulder learns 

of Scully's unexpected betrayal.

Author's Notes: Oceans of gratitude to Sallie for the 

inspiring beta and for the fantastic contribution to the 

end of the story. I appreciate it more than I can say. 

More notes at the end.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Fox, there's something you need to know."

Mulder turns to face Diana Fowley. She licks her lips 

nervously and shifts her weight to the other foot as she 

stands before him in his living room. "Something that's 

going to hurt, but I think you deserve to hear."

"What is it?" 

"It's about Agent Scully," she begins seriously. "It's 

about the people she's working with. The people she's 

been working with since the very beginning." 

Mulder swallows hard, not sure if he wants to hear the 

rest. Knots twist in his stomach as the silence stretches 

on. "Go on," he rasps out. 

"I've received information that she's been in league with 

the cigarette smoking man." She shakes her head 

sympathetically. "She has been since before you even 

met."

He closes his eyes and swallows hard. It can't be true, he 

thinks. I won't believe it.

"Do you have proof?"

"This afternoon, the smoking man came to my office, 

offering to make a deal. I refused. He then tried to 

persuade me by telling me of Agent Scully's 

involvement in what he called 'the project'." 

He shakes his head vehemently. "He's lying. There's no 

way she'd do that."

Diana reaches up to cup his face. "I'm sorry, Fox. It's 

true. Why else would she be so eager and willing to 

discredit your life's work, work that's important to 

exposing the conspiracy? You have to look inside 

yourself and think. Think back to all the times she has 

gone out of her way to prove you wrong. Now think 

about how many times those actions have aided the 

Consortium." Her eyes search his, hoping for 

understanding. It hurts her to do this to him, to see the 

pain in his eyes, but she can't forget that it's for his own 

good. 

"I- I think I need some time alone, please," he finally 

says. She nods and gathers her coat and purse.

"Call me if you need anything," she says, then gives him 

a reassuring squeeze on the arm before leaving.

Mulder sinks into the couch and lies back against the 

cushions, unwilling to give in to the sudden urge to 

punch something. It's a lie, he thinks. It's becoming a 

mantra, chanted over and over in his head. He throws an 

arm over his eyes in a futile effort to fend off the 

imminent headache. 

He searches his memory for proof of her infidelity. For 

that's what it is -- unfaithfulness in the sanctity of their 

unique relationship. He can think of nothing worse than 

the blow that's been dealt him.

The phone rings and he blows out a deep sigh. 

"Yeah," he croaks out.

"Mulder, it's Frohike."

"Now's not a good time, Frohike."

Silence, followed by an uncertain, "Look, Mulder -- 

there's something you need to see."

Mulder leans forward. "What is it?"

"I'd rather not say over the--"

"What. Is. It?" he enunciates. He's in no mood for 

vagueness or the Conspiracy Du Jour. 

"It's- it's Scully."

Mulder pinches the bridge of his nose, half wanting to 

stop the man from finishing.

"It's the damnedest thing, actually," Frohike laughs 

nervously. "Remember how we found nada against her 

when you two were first partnered up? Well, a buddy of 

ours came across something -- unexpected." 

He snorts again, more uneasy than Mulder could ever 

recall hearing him before. "Total coincidence, if you can 

believe that."

"Wh-," Mulder clears his throat, then pauses before 

trying again. He doesn't want to hear the fear in his own 

voice, but it's too late. Neither man wants to know this 

new discovery. "What is it?"

"A photograph."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Scully shimmies the key into the lock as she balances 

two grocery bags in her arms. With a little "Oomph!" she 

manages to unlock the door and turn the handle, nearly 

losing her balance in the process. One bag tries to slide 

down the silken fabric of her suit to the ground, but she 

grasps it just in time. The last thing she wants to do is 

spend the evening cleaning glass and red wine out of her 

beige carpet.

Sitting her burden down on the console table, she turns 

on a light. A figure sits deadly still in the armchair now 

awash with light and she jumps. 

"Mulder!" she gasps. "You scared the life out of me! 

What are you doing here?"

Mulder says nothing, but rises from his chair and stalks 

toward her. 

"Mulder? What's going on?" She takes in his mussed 

hair and wild eyes tinged in red, his quiet and purposeful 

stride. For the first time, she feels something akin to fear 

of him.

"Why'd you do it, Scully? How could you?" he finally 

asks.

And she knows. Sins of the past come rushing toward 

her, burying her in the guilt she's suffered since day one. 

"Mulder, I-"

He puts a hand up. "Don't. I, uh-" he huffs a short laugh 

out and shakes his head. "I don't think I can take another 

lie from you."

She looks away, unable to stand the reflection of her 

betrayal in his eyes. She feels like such a coward.

"Just -- tell me it isn't true, Scully. Tell me this photo is 

a fake." He silently pleads with her to deny it, so they 

can go on, unscathed. 

He holds up a picture of her, looking so fresh and 

young. She's standing in front of a pond, speaking to the 

cigarette smoking man. Ages ago, it seems. She's not 

the trusting fool she once was. Unfortunately, she 

learned her lesson too late. 

"I can't," she whispers. 

His eyes darken and he takes a step forward. "Then, it's 

true," he says flatly.

She's once again nervous, wondering what he's going to 

do even as she thinks she deserves his wrath. Taking a 

step back, she responds, "Yes." 

He takes another step forward. "Why?" he demands. 

"It's not exactly what it seems, Mulder," she says, 

taking another step back. 

"Oh? Then what is it? What did he offer you? Money? 

Power?" He spits the words, each delivered with a 

hatred she's never seen before. She fights the nausea 

swirling within her and takes another step back. 

"Let me explain," she begins weakly.

He runs a hand through his hair and laughs again, 

mirthlessly. He's on edge and she knows it. "Please do, 

Agent Scully."

"He came to me the day before my reassignment to the 

X-Files, with NSA credentials. He showed me proof that 

he was operating on a high level of power and I believed 

him." She looks up at Mulder. "At the time, I had no 

reason to think otherwise."

He says nothing, so she continues.

"I don't think I need to tell you that I was raised to have 

a healthy respect for authority. I was young and green. 

Had no idea what I was about to get myself into." She 

sighs and sidles over to sit on the couch. Mulder doesn't 

move. 

"He said it was a matter of national security; that I was 

to cooperate -- to reign you in because you were a threat. 

I wasn't exactly comfortable with that, but you can 

appreciate the position I was in." She glances to the side, 

where he stands. He isn't even looking at her now. 

"At first, it was just a matter of wording my reports in a 

way that was satisfactory to them. I was -- conflicted -- 

because I wanted to do my job honestly, but also wanted 

to do my part for the security of my country."

"So you made a deal with the devil." He states blandly.

She shifts in her seat. "Mulder, you can't imagine how 

many times I've wanted to tell you. I never thought 

you'd understand. Not after all he's put us through."

He turns to look at her. "You were right," he says 

disgustedly, then walks over to the chair. Sitting down, 

he continues. "So, how long have you been on his 

payroll?"

She glares at him. "I was never on his payroll, Mulder. 

My God! What do you think I am?"

"How long have you have you been working for him?" 

he shouts. She resists the reflexive instinct to cringe and 

looks into his angry eyes.

"I stopped just after Deep Throat was shot; after Doctor 

Carpenter's family was killed because of her 

involvement with us. I couldn't take it anymore. It was 

going past matters of security and even I could see that 

there was a hidden agenda at work."

He leans forward in his seat and steeples his hands, 

resting his forehead on it. His eyes are squeezed shut 

and all Scully can think is how the pain of her 

dishonesty is a palpable presence. The room is thick 

with it. 

"I sensed something was wrong from the beginning, 

Mulder. The stolen body, the fire in the motel -- I 

learned quickly that they'd stop at nothing to keep our 

work from advancing." 

"My work. It was never our work, was it?" he says 

bitterly. 

Scully's eyes glaze over with tears, but she will not let 

them fall. Not here, especially not now, when tears can 

be misconstrued as something else. 

"You didn't trust me then," she continues hoarsely. 

"You have no idea how much I wanted you to be able to. 

Every suspicious glance was like an accusation. I felt it, 

Mulder. I suffered."

"Looks like I had good reason not to trust you."

She snaps her head up, eyes blazing. "What was I 

supposed to do? He claimed to be NSA." Her voice rises 

as the anger mounts. "I never could've imagined what 

we were up against! Do you honestly think I would have 

gone along with this if I knew better? Do you? Because I 

would hope you know me better than that, Mulder."

He stands, glaring down at her. "That's just it! I don't 

know you. I never did. You say you were tricked. Well, 

why did it take Diana to tell me about this if you're 

innocent?"

Incredulous shock comes over her. Standing to be on 

equal ground, she lowers her voice to a deadly calm. 

"Diana? As in Agent Fowley? Let me get this straight, 

Mulder. You got this information from Diana Fowley?"

"Yes, yes I did. So?"

She shakes her head. "So -- you believed her, right? 

Well, isn't that nice. I'm sure she had quite a bit of proof 

to show you, considering she works for that chain-

smoking bastard herself."

"Don't try to turn the tables here. You're the one who's 

lied to me for the past five years!"

She snatches the photo and envelope off the arm of the 

chair Mulder just abandoned. Her last name scrawled on 

the front is in Langly's unmistakable script. 

Her heart drops. "It doesn't really matter anyway, does 

it?" she asks, voice flat. "Your loyalty never did lie with 

me. Tell me, Mulder, did she even offer you proof?"

He says nothing. 

She looks at him, astounded. "You took her at her word, 

didn't you? I offer you concrete evidence that she might 

be involved, and you tell me I'm taking things 

personally. She takes a sudden interest in my 

involvement, and you run to the Gunmen? You aren't 

thinking, Mulder! The woman is a part of all this."

"You don't know anything about her, Scully! The fact 

remains that you are a liar and a traitor and you'll stop at 

nothing to deflect the blame from you!"

"No, Mulder," she counters. "The fact remains that I 

called her out and she'll do anything to twist you against 

me. If anyone's deflecting blame here, it's her."

He glares at her. She stands her ground, staring defiantly 

into his narrowed eyes. He doesn't say another word, 

just grabs his coat and strides angrily to the door, 

slamming it behind him as he goes.

She sinks into heap on her chair, distraught beyond 

compare. She fears it's the end for them; that Diana and 

the smoking man have finally won. And she has no one 

to blame but herself.

Silent tears fall down her cheeks.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He can't sleep. The pain is unimaginable.

He recognizes that he's world-weary and without 

anything left to look forward to. Everything he's ever 

held sacred has been a joke, a complete sham. 

Light floods his darkened living room and he sees her 

black silhouette in the doorway. She enters silently, 

never bothering to knock.

"It was unlocked," she says. 

"Just leave," he says, and his voice cracks on it. Another 

betrayal. 

She doesn't go, but comes to sit on the floor next to him 

instead. They are quite a sight -- both sitting on the hard 

wood, backs against the couch and legs drawn near. 

Mulder holds his head in his hands, as he has since 

coming home. A glass full of whiskey sits on the table, 

untouched, and there's nothing to illuminate them but 

the soft glow of the moon as it streams through the 

window.

A long silence falls over the room once more. Scully 

reaches for the glass and puts it to her lips, draining it. 

Mulder looks at her curiously and laughs. The sound is 

half-hearted and broken.

"So, this is it, huh?" he says. His head snaps up 

suddenly, eyes flashing in the dim moonlight. "I won't 

quit, you know. Just because of -- of this," he waves his 

hand at her. "You can take that back to your boss."

She sighs wearily. "Mulder, please just let me explain."

"Explain," he repeats. "Explain away, Agent Scully." 

She bites her lip hearing the condescension in his voice, 

the underlying disgust. She thinks he must hate her for 

what she's done. She thinks he should hate her. 

"As I said, he came to me claiming security of the nation 

was at risk because of your work on the X-Files. He said 

you were dangerous, an anarchist of sorts who would 

see the government brought to its knees. Everything was 

a conspiracy to you, he said."

She pauses and Mulder remains silent.

"Much of what he said made no sense to me, but I 

agreed to assist him."

"Ever the dutiful daughter," he mumbles under his 

breath. 

Anger flares in her, but she pushes it down. "I didn't see 

I had much choice in the matter, Mulder."

Taking a breath, she continues. "He said he would have 

little contact with me from there on out, so imagine how 

surprised I was to see him in Blevins' office the next 

day, just as I was told of my reassignment to the X-

Files."

Mulder sits up straight. "He was in Blevins' office? Do 

you have any idea what this means? He was in it from 

the start."

She nods. "It's just what you had suspected all along. 

When I turned in my first report, I was called into a 

meeting where I got the distinct impression that I was 

being coached on how to handle my reports. They all 

knew, Mulder. I was completely out of my league. Yet I 

there I was, in the thick of things, trudging blindly 

through with nothing but a sense of doing the right thing 

to guide me.

"Very soon, I knew something was wrong. All of a 

sudden we were being bugged. Things we're being 

covered up that by all rights should've been public 

knowledge. I saw one military family after another being 

destroyed in their wake. Everything I thought I knew 

was going to hell, and I was a part of the destruction. It 

didn't take long to realize I was there to do their dirty 

work.

"After Dr. Carpenter's death, I saw how far they were 

willing to go to cover up their sins. The whole family, 

Mulder. They were all in that car. She didn't deserve 

what was done to her. None of them did."

"I spoke to the smoking man that night, after what I saw 

at Fort Marlene and Deep Throat's assassination. I told 

him I wanted nothing more to do with him, that I would 

not make a contribution to their despicable cause. He 

just laughed at me, told me it was a little late to have an 

attack of conscience. Finally, he agreed to have no more 

contact with me," she shakes her head slightly. "I was 

such a fool to believe that."

"Two weeks later, they shut us down. It was my fault -- 

he wanted to prove a point to me. But I continued to 

help you in your search. For that, I paid dearly."

Mulder looks at her, eyes wide in disbelief. "Your 

abduction," he croaks. 

She nods. "It was my punishment. Mulder, you have to 

believe that I did nothing to intentionally hurt you. I 

knew about as much as you did about their plans. The 

difference was that I agreed to help keep you in line."

"Wasn't that enough?" he asks. He wants to believe her 

so badly. Part of him wishes she'd taken the out he'd 

given her, wishes he'd never heard her utter these words. 

She was pushed off her high pedestal this night. 

How can what they had be restored, now that he knows 

these things? 

"Deep Throat tried to warn me once about you, you 

know. He told me that nothing is just what it seems." He 

says. The accusation lacks the conviction he felt just 

moments ago.

"Mulder, you can't fathom the guilt I've carried over 

this. There were times when I could barely look you in 

the eye. And in the beginning, I was sure you could see 

right through me."

He chortles, but it's an empty effort. "I had no idea, 

Scully. You were a great actress. I came to think you 

were someone I could trust absolutely."

She lays a hand lightly on his arm. "You can, Mulder. 

I've spent the rest of our partnership determined to make 

it up to you. I thought, if only I could help you. If only I 

could fight harder for the truth..."

She removes her hand and looks away, trying to hide the 

raw misery in her face. 

He looks away as well. It's too hard to be in the same 

room with her, while violent swings of emotion conflict 

with each other. He feels almost guilty for being angry 

with her. It makes no sense, but the wounds are so fresh. 

He's not used to feeling this way toward her.

Mulder remembers a time when she said he was the only 

one that she trusted. He recalls yet another conversation, 

and something he'd missed before. Something that 

nudges its way into his consciousness now, demanding 

attention -- 

"I have never met anyone so passionate and dedicated to 

a belief as you. It's so intense that sometimes it's 

blinding. But there are others who are watching, who 

know what I know and whereas I can respect and admire 

your passion, they will use it against you. Mulder, the 

truth is out there, but so are lies."

She was trying to warn him. She'd been trying to warn 

him all along. 

Countless times, she could've sabotaged his efforts. 

How many times had he trespassed on government 

property, Scully in tow -- even when she was strictly 

against it? How many times had she stood steadfastly by 

his side, staring boldly into the faces that would see their 

work destroyed?

She has covered his ass, regardless of the irreparable 

damage to her career. She has suffered the loss of her 

only sister and the ability to bear children. She was 

abducted, given cancer and made to be their guinea pig. 

The miracle child she came to love instantly, ripped 

from her. They even robbed her of the peace of burial. 

She has lost so much, he thinks. More than anyone 

should have to bear. And yet, she does bear it. He can't 

imagine a person like the one sitting beside him working 

for the very people who have put her through such 

misery. Has she not redeemed herself? Has she not paid 

for her indiscretions? 

She looks at him, eyes wet and wide, pleading for 

understanding. He can see she's scared. He is too. But 

he thinks that maybe, just maybe, they can get past this. 

He thinks he can live with what he has found out 

tonight, though the journey back to trust will be a rough 

one. It will be worth the effort.

Reaching over tentatively, he wipes a tear off her cheek 

with his thumb. She sighs deeply, closing her eyes as 

she rests a shaking hand over his. 

"It'll take some time," he says softly.

Eyes still closed, she whispers, "I understand." 

A promise, unspoken and strong passes between them. 

He hopes it's enough. 

~ The End ~ 

Notes: This, of course, is a "what if" story. When 

viewed at the right angle, many of Scully's actions in 

Season One can look suspicious. It's in the subtleties -- a 

look on her face or her mannerisms at a critical moment. 

Look closely and you'll see what I mean. Just my 

contribution to an old theme.


End file.
